


Everybody Knows

by withthekeyisking



Series: Sladick Fics [35]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Jason Todd, Alpha Slade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bad Guys Win, Batkids Age Reversal, Beta Tim Drake, Cunnilingus, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Robin, Extremely Dubious Consent, Intersex Omegas, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Dick Grayson, Rescue, SladeRobin Week, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthekeyisking/pseuds/withthekeyisking
Summary: When Ra's al Ghul asked for Slade's allegiance in taking down the heroes once and for all, Slade agreed, asking for only one thing in return.And now that the Bat and so many others are dead, Slade finally has the little bird in his grasp.
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Roman Sionis & Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Ra's al Ghul
Series: Sladick Fics [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1307747
Comments: 69
Kudos: 326
Collections: SladeRobin Week 2020





	Everybody Knows

**Author's Note:**

> SladeRobin Week 2020 Day 5: **“What do you want from me?”** | Dragons | Pregnancy
> 
> Well, we just had two days of alpha Dick, and now we're trying out some omega Dick! Something for everyone XD
> 
> Title from the Sigrid song

"Slade, welcome."

Slade inclines his head in greeting, coming to a stop in front of Ra's. The man looks up at him idly from where he sits behind his desk, hands folded in his lap. "Ra's."

"I take it your journey was uneventful?"

Oh, joy. Small talk. Slade really couldn't care less about what Ra's has to say, what big speech the man is going to give about how they've won and blah, blah, blah. Slade is here for one very specific reason, and he'd like to claim his prize and then leave.

"Yes," Slade says nonetheless, because trying to get Ra's to do something he doesn't want to do is next to impossible. "Uneventful."

Ra's eyes glimmer with something like amusement, and Slade resist the urge to roll his eye with impatience. Ra's al Ghul really is the embodiment of a power-obsessed alpha; the man loves being in control, and enjoys every moment of lording his power over others. Even in such a small way. Even over an ally.

"Well," Ra's says, rising from his seat, "I suppose you'd like what you came for, hm?"

Slade offers a slight smirk. "However did you guess?"

Ra's chuckles lightly and moves around the desk, heading for the door. Slade follows him, glancing around as they walk through the halls of Nanda Parbat. It's been a while since he was last here, not since Ra's held the meeting that called them all together, planning for the future that would put them all on top.

Slade can admit that he didn't actually think it would work. Heroes are like cockroaches, they tend to survive even the most impossible of odds. Tend to come out on top, when the world is threatened. Slade provided his aid because Ra's offered him quite a lot of money and a very specific prize should everything work out, so Slade figured what the hell.

Turned out that was the right choice in the end. And so here he is after the end of the war, the world in practical ruins with ninety percent of the heroes either dead or captured and the last ten percent running scared, coming to claim something he never thought he'd actually possess.

In the past, Slade has ignored auctions whenever they popped up, the group here or there that thought themselves clever enough to capture a hero and sell them off to the highest bidder. It truly wasn't worth the effort, not even when he saw the boy get kidnapped and put up—because surely, other heroes would turn up soon enough and rescue their friend, and then Slade would simply be out quite a lot of money and hunted by a bunch of goody two-shoes even more than he already was.

Absolutely not worth it. But this time is different. This time, anyone with the ability to truly help is dead. This time, they've actually _won._

They reach the cells, and Slade glances in them idly, looking at the captured heroes. The hall reeks of anger and pain and _fear,_ and Slade's nose wrinkles at the sourness of it all.

Noticing his look, Ra's smiles. "You get used to it after a little while. All these people were once the strongest of the world, and now they're nothing more than _slaves,_ waiting to be bought and sold."

That elicits a growl from one of the cells they pass, the alpha hero inside radiating their rage quite clearly, but Ra's only looks amused and keeps walking.

"The Bats are at the back," Ra's explains as they walk deeper and deeper into Nanda Parbat. "They might not be metas, but they're certainly not to be underestimated, and have a nasty habit of escaping even the most impossible of situations."

Doesn't Slade know it. "How many do you have?" he asks out of curiosity.

"Still? Robin, Red Hood, and Spoiler. Batwoman and Huntress were shipped off this morning, Batgirl two days ago. Nightwatch has been in my care from the beginning. The rest are all dead, or..."

 _Or managed to escape._ "Who?"

Ra's' mouth twists, displeased. "My grandson has evaded capture. He will be caught soon enough."

Slade doubts that; he's fought Reaper once or twice before, and the boy is a skilled opponent. He won't be easy to take down.

Then again, Batman truly was the best of the best, and still he fell. Besides, if Slade knows anything about Damian Wayne it's that he's very dedicated to his family, and won't be able to just sit back and watch them get sold off like objects. He'll want to save them, if he sees the chance to do so. Especially for the boy who is as much his son as brother.

Slade's already taking precautions.

They pass a few empty cells, and then come upon Red Hood.

The kid is bruised and bloodied, hands chained to the ceiling and feet to the floor. It's obvious that he put up one hell of a fight, and there's no fear when he looks at Ra's and Slade, only contempt. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, but Slade brushes off the inherent challenge in the look; Todd is beat, and they both know it. The only thing up in the air now is if he'll remain in one piece for whoever buys him.

"Deathstroke," Hood says, eyes narrowed. "The hell are you doing here?"

Slade offers him a smirk. "Here to claim my prize."

And _there_ is the spark of fear Slade likes to see. Hood knows what Slade means.

The fear shifts to rage very quickly, and he yanks against his chains with a roar, aggression rolling off him in waves. "Touch him and I'll kill you!"

Slade cocks an eyebrow, amused. "Doesn't look like you'll be going anywhere any time soon, kid. So why don't you just relax and wait for your turn? I'm sure someone will come by for you real soon."

Hood growls, deep and low in his chest. Slade feels himself instinctively responding to the challenge, to this captured _teenager_ who actually thinks he's a _threat_ right now, but he doesn't let it show outwardly. Only glances at Ra's and says, "Shall we?"

Hood shouts after them as they walk away, threats tinged with fear that Slade wonders if the boy can even hear in his own voice. Ever the protective big brother.

"We've been keeping them separated," Ra's explains as they walk past a few more before they reach the next occupied cell. "It won't do to have them plotting together. Not that they'd actually manage to escape, of course."

And then there the boy is, right in front of him.

He's always so shocked by how small Robin is, considering how much the boy has accomplished. And sitting chained in a cell covered in bruises and grime, curled up tightly in the corner, makes him seem all the smaller.

The boy looks over at them warily, body tensing with clear anxiety. His cell reeks of stress and pain and _sex,_ and when Slade sees the bruises on his neck he has a better understanding as to why.

Bite marks. None deep enough to claim, but enough to make it very obvious what's been done to the young omega.

Slade frowns over at Ra's. Ra's doesn't pretend to be confused as to why.

"The men who brought him in got a little... _enthusiastic_ when they removed his scent blockers and realized he was an omega," Ra's explains.

Slade lets out a small growl, displeased. Ra's doesn't even bat an eye, but the boy tenses even further, drawing in on himself. "He was supposed to be _mine,_ Ra's."

"Yes," Ra's agrees. "And the men have been punished for getting ahead of themselves. The damage has already been done, Slade. Do you still want him or not?"

Slade gives him a look, and then holds a hand out for the key to the cell. Ra's hands it over without complaint, a smirk tilting his lips. "You're very lucky, you know," Ra's says as he turns away, beginning to walk back down the hall. "The boy is nearing his heat."

Faintly, Slade can hear Red Hood shout again as Ra's passes him; the young omega clearly hears him, too, a short whine escaping him at his brother's voice that he quickly bites off, jaw clenching.

Slade unlocks the cell and steps inside, approaching the boy. Unlike Hood, Robin is chained to the wall instead of the ceiling, the chains possessing enough slack that the boy could make it to the center of the room if he wanted to. Instead, the boy has crammed himself in the corner as far as he can go; unsurprising, considering what's happened to him.

Slade comes to a stop just outside the reach of where the chains would allow the boy to move. It's unlikely that the boy will manage to move very quickly if he's injured, definitely not too quickly with how heavy those chains look, but better safe than sorry. Robin might be young, but he's skilled and clever.

"I'm going to approach you," Slade says, "and if you try to attack me, I will hurt you. Do you understand?"

Robin looks up at him from underneath his fringe, blue eyes troubled. There's a slight haze over them, but whether that's because of a concussion or the beginning of a heat, Slade doesn't know.

The boy's head moves up and down in a small nod, and Slade figures he's smart enough to not make trouble, not when facing Deathstroke and still locked up.

So Slade walks forward, crouching down in front of the teenager. He reaches out, ignoring the way Robin goes stiff, and slides his fingers through the boy's hair. He takes a handful of it, firm but not painful, and tilts Robin's head up and to the side, baring his neck.

The boy squeezes his eyes shut, trembling with fear, but doesn't try to fight when Slade leans in and presses his nose to the scent gland underneath his ear, inhaling deeply. He smells good, like springtime, and there's a slight warmth to it that shows Ra's is right; Slade would estimate there's only a day or two until the heat really hits the boy.

"Hello, Robin," Slade greets, lips brushing the boy's skin as he speaks, drawing a shudder out of the small frame. "Do you remember me?"

It's been a stressful time, after all. A war's been going on, and Robin only met him a couple times before the world went to hell. It's very possible that Slade has just blended into all the other villains the boy's had to face beside his family.

Robin left an impression on him, though. Fierce and bright and brimming with potential, and an _omega_ to top it all off. Slade knew he wanted him for his own from the very beginning, and he was patient. Played the long game. He knew it would work out eventually, and now here they are.

"Deathstroke," the boy says. His voice shakes a little, fear souring his scent, and Slade can't blame him; a large alpha currently has him boxed in against the wall, he's approaching his heat, _and_ he's already been raped. If that isn't cause for fear, Slade doesn't know what is.

"That's right," Slade says, drawing in a deep breath again. The smell of multiple alphas clings to the boy, and it makes Slade growl, feeling something possessive rise up in him; this boy was supposed to be _his,_ he was _promised._ And some idiotic knotheads jumped the gun and took something that was not theirs to take.

A whine escapes Robin at Slade's growl, a clearly involuntary noise going by the sudden way it cuts off, the boy swallowing thickly in an attempt to control himself.

"How old are you, boy?" Slade asks. He knows the kid is in his teen years, but past that he hasn't paid much attention to the specifics. Young enough that Slade knew he would've been untouched by anyone else, only Slade's for the taking.

If the men who raped Robin are still alive, Slade will take care of the problem himself, damn Ra's' disapproval.

"Fourteen," Robin whispers. He tries to shift away, but freezes when Slade brushes his teeth against the side of his neck. It's only a warning—he has no intention of biting the kid yet, not in this cell—but the fear of it keeps Robin in place nonetheless. "Please..."

One corner of Slade's mouth ticks up, amused. "What are you begging for, boy?"

Robin squeezes his eyes shut again. "Please don't. I can't...I don't want..."

Slade chuckles softly. "What you want doesn't matter anymore, little omega. You all lost, and now you're mine to do with as I please."

He pulls back slightly and takes the boy's chin in his hand, shaking his head a little and prompting the boy to open his eyes. The bright blue shine with tears, his expression lined with stress, and Slade resists the urge to nuzzle his hair, to breathe in more of that pleasant scent. There will be time for that later, once the boy understands the way of things.

"I'm not cruel unless I have to be," Slade tells him. "Unless you give me reason to harm you, I won't mistreat you. As long as you do as I say, you'll be alright."

Robin's eyes narrow. "You're a _liar,"_ he says, and though his voice shakes, there's an impressive amount of venom in it. Not completely broken yet. "You're planning on—on doing what _they_ did to me, you can't say you're not gonna—gonna _mistreat me_ when you want to—to—"

Even after everything that's happened to him, he can't bring himself to say the word. It's strangely innocent of him.

"It doesn't have to hurt," Slade says, almost _coos._ "Only if you fight me, little bird. I can be a fair master; obedience will be rewarded, just as misbehaving will have severe consequences. I don't want to have to hurt you, but I won't hesitate to do so if you give me reason."

Tears slip down the boy's cheeks. "What do you want from me?" he asks hoarsely.

Slade smiles. "Right now? I'm very much looking forward to enjoying your heat with you." The boy's expression spasms. "After that? The fact that you're an omega doesn't detract from the fact that you're quite skilled and have a large amount of potential. I intend to train you, boy."

"I don't _want_ your training," the boy snaps, twisting his head away. "I don't—"

Slade lets out a furious growl, just to see the way the boy shakes and hear the scared whine that erupts from him, watching with no small amount of pleasure as the boy bares his neck even further in submission.

Slade presses a gentle kiss to his temple in reward and says, "It doesn't matter what you want. You will learn soon enough that you don't have a choice; you will either obey me or face the consequences." He draws back, once more tilting the boy's face up to look him in the eye. "Now, I am going to unchain you, and we are going to walk out of here. If you attempt to attack me or escape, I will bite you and tie you up and _carry_ you. Do you understand?"

Robin stares back at him for a moment, maybe judging how serious Slade is, and then nods.

"Good," Slade says in approval.

He grabs the boy's small wrists and unlocks the manacles wrapped around them; it's clear that the boy had been fighting against them, going by how rubbed raw his flesh is, the skin even broken in a few areas. As soon as the manacles are unlocked he jerks his arms to his chest, curling up more tightly and looking up at Slade warily as the alpha pushes to his feet.

"Come on," Slade prompts. He meant it when he said he isn't unnecessarily cruel; unless Robin fights him, he sees no reason why they can't both walk out of here like civilized people.

Robin stands up with a wince, leaning heavily against the wall for a moment before pushing himself upright and raising his chin, looking Slade in the eye.

Slade's amused despite himself at the bravery. He doesn't say anything, instead turning for the hall and walking out of the cell. He hears a pair of light footsteps follow hesitantly after him.

Red Hood is straining against his chains when they reach his cell, attempting to get closer to the bars and see out. He jerks when Slade steps into view, and then his eyes immediately go to the small form behind him, desperately taking in the sight of his little brother.

Robin's eyes go wide and he jolts forward, pressing up against the bars and whining softly, eyes again filling with tears as he looks at the beat-up form of Hood, clearly in no position to help him.

Hood opens his mouth but no words come out, the boy floundering with what to say. His eyes flick briefly over to Slade, hate filling his gaze, but Slade pays him no mind, instead raising a curious eyebrow when Robin turns to him as well, a desperate look on his face.

"Please," the boy says. "If I'm never gonna see him again— _please,_ Slade."

Slade considers it for a moment, and then inclines his head, figuring it can't do any harm. Might even make the boy more compliant if he does something for him. So he steps forward and unlocks Red Hood's cell.

The door is barely open before Robin is dashing inside, throwing his arms around Hood's middle and hugging him tightly. Hood grunts, expression spasming with pain, but he doesn't hesitate to tuck his head down and nuzzle Robin's hair, rumbling soothingly.

"You're gonna be okay," Hood murmurs. "You hear me, Dickie? It's all gonna be okay."

Ah, right. The boy's name, _Dick Grayson._ Another thing Slade has never much cared about. Good to know nonetheless.

"No it's not," the boy says, his voice muffled from where it's pressed against his brother's chest. "They—he's gonna—"

Hood's eyes meet Slade's again, hateful and disgusted, lips curling back from his teeth in a quiet snarl. Slade stares placidly back.

"Deathstroke has a code," Hood says, and though he's talking to Robin, he doesn't break eye contact with Slade. "Might be a fucked up one, but it's there. _Survive,_ Dickiebird. Okay? That's all you gotta do for now. Just survive. This isn't over."

Slade snorts; it's almost _adorable_ that Red Hood still thinks there's a way out of this. The fight is _done,_ there's no one coming to save them. The heroes that managed to escape are no match for what they're up against, and they'll be caught or killed soon enough. Hood's going to need to wise up to the new way of things and fast.

But hey, if Hood's pointless words mean Robin is going to cooperate, then Slade doesn't mind a little delusion.

"Time to go," Slade says, and the boy lets out a small sound like a sob, arms squeezing more tightly around Red Hood before reluctantly drawing back. The pair of brothers just look at each other for a long moment, and then Robin steps back out of the cell, wrapping his arms around himself as Slade locks it again.

Slade drops a hand to the boy's shoulder, ignoring the way he flinches, and then guides him down the hall.

* * *

Dick is trying to be brave.

It's what Bruce would do, in his position. And Damian. And everyone else. They'd be strong, even when facing such horrible things. They'd keep their heads held high and not let anything get to them. They'd acknowledge the fear but not let it take them over.

So Dick is trying to do that. He's trying to not let anything that's happened get to him, trying to let it roll right off his back, but it's...challenging. Because the things these people have done...

He had to watch Duke and Harper die right in front of him, violent and bloody. He had to be beaten into near unconsciousness, almost _grateful_ when the blackness took him because maybe that meant he was dying and he wouldn't be captured, would get to see Bruce and everyone else again, but instead he woke up and they were—

Bruce and Damian taught him the importance of keeping his designation a secret, that if the bad guys learned about what he was they'd want to hurt him in a different way than they'd hurt everyone else. And Dick understood that, in a distant sort of way. He understood what they were talking about, but it all felt very...unreal. Not something that would really happen to _him._

But that didn't stop them from doing it.

They didn't even _hesitate._ It didn't matter to them that he was only fourteen, or that you're not supposed to treat prisoners that way, or that he was begging them to stop. They laughed at him and did it anyway. They only stopped because Ra's al Ghul made them, otherwise...

Dick hates being grateful for the actions of a man who has ruined so many lives. Who _killed Bruce._ He doesn't want to be thankful for _anything_ that man does, especially because he knows Ra's didn't do it out of the goodness of his heart.

But he's grateful nonetheless. Because who knows how much longer it could've gone on? Who knows what else they would've done? His heat was only a few days away, if they kept him until then—

And now he's in the hands of Deathstroke the Terminator.

He's always known that Slade had some sort of interest in him. The kind of interest that made Bruce wary and made Damian step between Slade and Dick any time Deathstroke popped up in their territory. But it always seemed _professional_ to Dick. That Slade just wanted to train him, bring him over to his side, make an apprentice out of him. He didn't think—

It was naïve of him not to, probably. The fact that he didn't know there was more to it was shockingly naïve for someone trained by the world's greatest detectives. Maybe he just didn't want to see it. But now it's truly impossible to ignore.

He knows what Slade is going to do to him. The man as good as outright said it, after all. And Dick _knows_ now what it feels like, how much it _hurts,_ how terrifying it is—he doesn't want to go through that again. He's so afraid of it, of Slade. He hates how weak he feels, how childish for feeling so broken down already, but he really would give just about anything to not have to go through that again.

He wants Bruce back. He wants to have escaped with Damian. He wants to hug Jason again, and rescue Tim from wherever Ra's is keeping him, and see Stephanie and learn if Barbara is even still alive and—

He wants his family. And instead he gets Deathstroke.

They get on a helicopter, and then a plane, and then they arrive at a strange complex with so many security measures that it almost makes Dick's head spin. Slade leads him through winding halls that Dick does his best to memorize; his head is still pounding from a blow he took and anxiety is making him shaky and nauseous, but Bruce would never stop planning, so Dick can't either.

"This is your room," Slade says, opening a door, and Dick doesn't know what he was expecting—a cell, maybe? Or maybe to even have to share Slade's room?—but he's extremely relieved by how _normal_ it is; there's a bed, a dresser, a desk, and an open door that shows Dick even has his own bathroom. It's so relieving to have his own space. He doesn't know if it'll last, but for now he'll take what he can get.

"You can have almost free-range of the compound," Slade says, standing in the doorway, and Dick turns back to face him. "If a door is locked, do _not_ attempt to open it. You will be punished if you do. Ninety-five percent of this place is covered in cameras, anyway, so don't think I won't know."

Dick glances around his room self-consciously.

Clearly understanding what he's thinking, Slade's lips quirk up in a small smile and he says, "There isn't a camera in here. But the window is reinforced and doesn't open, and the door locks automatically at night; any attempt to hack the lock will, of course, be met with a punishment.

"There will be three meals a day; one at seven in the morning, another at noon, and then dinner at six. Meals are mandatory, as are scheduled training sessions. Otherwise I don't care much what you do, as long as you don't attempt to leave. Understood?"

That sounds almost too good to be true, especially since it isn't addressing the elephant in the room. Dick wants to ask, but he's afraid to draw attention to it and maybe encourage Slade to act. The longer he can go without Slade _touching_ him, the better.

"Yes," Dick says softly.

Slade nods. "Good." He turns to leave and then pauses, glancing back at Dick. "I also want you to address me as either _Master_ or _Alpha._ Understood?"

Dick narrows his eyes. Slade is certainly not his master nor his alpha, and it's insulting to Bruce's memory for the man to think he's even _slightly_ the man and alpha Dick's father was. Dick refuses to dishonor him that way, not if he has a choice.

Slade lets out a sigh, turning to face him head on again. Dick tries to control the fear that sparks in him.

"Is this really the hill you want to make your stand on, boy?" Slade asks.

Dick is afraid. But he's supposed to be brave. And he refuses to just roll right over and let Slade have whatever he wants from him.

So he clenches his hands into fists and bares his teeth, trying to ignore the thrill of fear in him when Slade's icy eye narrows with displeasure. "You are _not_ my alpha."

Slade's lips twist into a cruel smirk. "Wayne is _dead,_ boy. He's not coming to save you. All you are now is _mine,_ and you'll do whatever I tell you to. So yes, I _am_ your alpha. And your master. Hell, I'm even your _god_ if I say I am. Now do you want to say _Yes, Alpha,_ or do you want me to _make_ you?"

The last words come out as a growl, and it makes Dick flinch, biting back the whine that wants to come out. Slade is big and strong and barely even has to try to sound so threatening, to get his voice into the deeper register that only alphas can accomplish, the voice that pulls at Dick's instincts to placate and obey.

He knows how to resist those instincts. But he's—he's already been through so much. He doesn't want to face off against an angry alpha, not when he still—when he still _hurts,_ down there. Not when his neck is still aching from all the bites.

But he can't just betray Bruce.

So Dick snarls back at Slade, bracing for a fight.

Slade's enhancements make him so much faster than a regular human. Dick barely sees him move before the man is in front of him, barely gets his arms up to block the punch coming for him.

He fights the best he can, but he's injured and exhausted and Slade is simply _better,_ so it isn't long until the mercenary has him pinned on the floor, his far larger body draped over him.

Teeth land on his neck, and Dick thrashes, an afraid noise escaping him. No, he doesn't want it, he doesn't want it—

Slade bites down, growling as he does so, and the combination makes Dick go limp, instincts screaming at him to submit, to not make the alpha any angrier than he already is. A whines escapes him and his head tilts to bare his neck, eyes squeezing shut as he does so.

Dick has never hated his designation before. He's never been ashamed to be an omega. But right now? What he wouldn't give to be anything else.

Slade eventually releases the bite, but Dick doesn't move, staying limp, remaining unthreatening. Slade's breath is hot against the side of his face as he growls against the shell of his ear, "I am your alpha, boy. _Say it."_

"Alpha," Dick sobs out, hating himself for it, hating how he can't resist. _"Please."_

Slade rumbles approvingly, and Dick relaxes even further in immediate response. Slade scent marks him, drawing a shudder out of Dick; no one's done that before except his family.

Eventually Slade pulls off of him, getting to his feet. Dick's body feels like jelly, uncooperative, and he barely manages to roll over onto his back so he can watch Slade. The man smiles at him.

"Dinner is in three hours," he says. "Take a shower, and I'll see you then."

* * *

Slade leaves the kid alone for the most part for the first couple days.

He can see how on-edge Dick is the entire time, how he keeps waiting for Slade to do something, but Slade's patient; the boy's heat is so close, after all. What's the point in forcing him when he'll have him more than willing in just a few days' time?

So he lets Dick explore the compound, exercise in the gym by himself, doesn't try to talk too much to him during meals. And the kid behaves for the most part, doesn't try to open any doors he shouldn't; he _does_ examine the locks on everything, but Slade doesn't see any point in punishing him for that—it's reasonable that the kid would be curious about that shit, and as long as he doesn't try anything there's no harm in it.

It's on the third day that Dick doesn't show up for breakfast.

Slade waits for ten minutes and then makes his way to the boy's room. He doesn't bother to knock, simply pushes the door open, and then inhales deeply when the smell of an in-heat omega hits him.

The kid is curled up in bed, blankets and clothes arranged in a nest around him. His hair is damp with sweat and curling against his forehead, pupils blown wide. He's panting softly, eyes dazed as he looks at Slade.

He still has enough of himself to be afraid, a pitiful whine escaping him as he curls up more tightly, making himself a smaller target. Slade ignores it, striding forward and crawling onto the bed on top of the omega. He noses at Dick's neck and the kid tilts his head up automatically, even as he lets out a distressed noise.

Slade breathes in that sweet, sweet smell straight from the source, a soothing rumble escaping him on pure instinct at the anxiety tinging the edges of the kid's scent. The sound makes the kid melt, head tilting even further, and Slade presses a kiss to his scent gland in reward.

It draws a gasp out of the boy, so Slade does it again and again, nipping at the scent gland after a little while. It makes Dick keen, arching up towards him, the haziness over his eyes deepening.

"That's right," Slade purrs. _"Good_ omega. You're so sweet now, aren't you? Going to be good for me?"

Dick's eyes slide around the room dazedly, eyebrows furrowing, clearly searching for something. "Where's...I...?" He trails off, not finishing whatever he was going to say, but then continues with, "Alpha?"

He's calling out for his father, Slade knows. Considering his age he's probably never had a heat away from his family, never gone through this difficult time without the Bat there with him. As the heat begins to truly take him over, he's not thinking clearly, and doesn't understand why his dad isn't present.

It doesn't bother Slade; the boy will learn better soon enough. He'll learn that he belongs to Slade, that Bruce Wayne is dead and never coming for him. That all he has now is Slade, his alpha.

So Slade nips at Dick's scent gland again, biting down a little more firmly this time, and the boy goes completely boneless beneath him, head tipping back even further to grant Slade all the access he could want with a soft sound that is half-confusion and half-pleasure.

Slade pulls back and yanks his shirt off, then gets rid of his pants and underwear as well. Dick's eyes drift over his revealed skin hazily, and he reaches out with a small hand, fingers stroking across Slade's chest and making the alpha smile.

The boy doesn't fight when Slade moves in to remove his shirt, remaining pliant as Slade pulls it over his head and off his arms. He shifts away slightly when Slade's hands go to his pants, but doesn't actually fight, letting Slade strip him without complaint.

Slade doesn't resist the urge, then, to lean down, hands on Dick's hips to lift them up. He buries his face between the boy's thighs, drawing in a deep breath of that sweet omega slick before thrusting his tongue into the boy's cunt.

Dick _wails,_ jerking in his grip, and it makes something deeply possessive and primal rise up in Slade; no one's touched the boy here, not really, not like this. And no one ever will; Dick is _his,_ now and forever. His omega.

He sucks on the boy's clit, enjoying the rush of slick that draws out of him, the high moan that spills from his mouth. He thrusts his tongue in again between the boy's folds, dong it again and again until his face is dripping with the omega's juices, until Dick is shaking and letting out high-pitched moans on every breath.

Only then does he pull back, grinning sharply when Dick makes a loud, protesting noise, trying to jerk his hips back up to Slade's face. His face is flushed, his eyes bright, chest heaving under the force of his panting. Slade shushes him and leans in to kiss him, letting the boy taste himself on his tongue. Dick whimpers, but tilts his face up into the kiss, opening his mouth pliantly for Slade's attention.

Slade takes the opportunity to slip two fingers into the omega's cunt. It's tight and hot and _wet,_ and makes Slade growl, a noise that draws a shiver out of Dick. He starts to pump his fingers in and out, and the boy moans, canting his hips upward to force Slade's fingers deeper.

"There you go," Slade rumbles. "So good, little bird. So good for your alpha."

 _"Please,"_ the omega says, voice reedy, baring his neck. "Please, _Alpha..."_

Slade growls again, arousal spiking. He withdraws his fingers and flips Dick onto his stomach, hiking his hips up. The boy immediately arches his back, instincts taking over and pushing him into a deep presenting position. Slade rumbles approvingly, stroking a hand up and down the boy's spine before lining himself up with his entrance.

He pushes in slowly, drinking in the keen that escapes the omega, Dick pressing his hips up even further. He whines on each breath once Slade is fully inside of him, and Slade allows him a few moments to adjust—he isn't heartless like those men who captured the boy, he won't cause the boy pain if he doesn't have to—and then begins to thrust, groaning at how perfectly the omega's cunt fits around his cock.

He lets go then, not fighting the urge to _take_ and _claim_ the young omega beneath him, _his_ omega. The boy is moaning and shaking under him, and Slade growls possessively, hands on Dick's hips and yanking him back to meet each thrust, pushing as deep as he can go each time.

He feels his knot begin to grow, catching on the boy's folds with each drag of his cock. Dick must feel it too, because he lets out a long, needy sound, cunt clenching down around Slade, practically _begging_ for his knot.

Slade drapes himself over the omega's back, fucking roughly in and out. "You want it, Omega?" he growls in the boy's ear. "You want my knot?"

 _"Alpha,"_ Dick sobs out, not managing more than that, and Slade doesn't try to force him to say more; this is his first heat with a real alpha, after all. The sensations must all be incredibly overwhelming.

He'll get used to it soon enough; Slade is nowhere close to done with him.

When Slade comes, when his knot firmly locks them together, he doesn't resist what his instincts are screaming at him to do, biting down on Dick's scent gland until he breaks skin, until he tastes blood and his senses are flooded with that intoxicating scent, until he feels the bond solidify.

_His omega._

The boy falls apart underneath him, coming with a low moan, clenching around Slade again and again. He mewls as Slade unclamps his jaw, actually _purring_ when he laps at the fresh claiming bite with his tongue.

"Alpha," Dick croons, expression perfectly blissed out.

Slade chuckles, brushing his nose over the boy's hair, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple. "My omega," he rumbles. "Good boy. So good. And all _mine."_

* * *

Dick's heat lasts longer than it normally does.

Distantly, he knows that has something to do with the fact that this is the first time he's actually sharing a heat with an alpha, that he's actually been _claimed,_ but he honestly doesn't spend a lot of time thinking about it. He barely can string any coherent thoughts together, over the next five days.

The days all blend together, a haze that Dick can barely describe. He knows, in the logical part of his brain, that he doesn't want this. That Slade has kidnapped him and is—is _raping_ him, that he's no better than the men who captured him before, just because he waited for Dick to be gripped by a heat.

But the rest of his brain—

He wants nothing more than to be with his alpha, to be a good omega for Slade, to make him happy and have Slade inside of him where he belongs, to have Slade's teeth on his neck again and again, making sure the claiming bite scars and covering up all the bruises left by others, leaving only his touch behind. He wants to be curled up in bed with Slade, the man's knot keeping them tied together, the man rumbling against his back and soothing Dick so completely.

Slade rarely leaves him the entire time. There are brief occasions where Dick can feel his absence, where he whines for his alpha to come back, only comforted by the lingering scent of him on Dick's nest.

And when Slade returns, he always has food or water or a cool washcloth and it's so good, something deep inside of him utterly content with how thoroughly his alpha is taking care of him. He doesn't know what else he could possibly want.

On the sixth day, Dick starts to come back to himself a little. Enough that he doesn't feel overwhelmingly warm, doesn't twist on the sheets with a need he can't even describe but can only be sated by his alpha's presence. He still feels out of it, still blinks dazedly around the room and can't bring himself to move, entire body buzzing slightly, but he feels more...aware. It's good to be closer to the surface.

He feels icky, too. Slade's been cleaning him up periodically, but swipes of a washcloth can't get rid of five days' worth of sweat and _cum,_ and Dick wants a shower desperately. He can't get himself to stand up and go to the bathroom, though.

Slade returns, climbing back onto the bed, and Dick sighs in contentment, baring his neck immediately so that Slade can nose at it the way he likes, nipping along the length of his throat before reaching the still-healing claiming bite and digging his teeth into it again.

Dick melts against the bed with a soft noise, thoughts going fuzzy, purring when he smells Slade's scent, so familiar by this point and filled with satisfaction, with desire for _Dick._

He spreads his legs easily when Slade nudges them apart, sinking further into the fuzzy haze as Slade pushes inside of him.

He comes back to himself again sometimes later, whining faintly as he feels Slade get out of bed. The alpha shushes him and kisses him gently, and Dick drifts to sleep again.

He wakes again, and Slade fucks him roughly, then holds him in his lap and feeds him grapes. He murmurs possessive words against Dick's hair, and Dick stays limp, draped on the alpha's chest, feeling utterly peaceful.

That's when an alarm starts to blare.

Slade stiffens, and Dick whimpers as the man's scent sharpens. Slade doesn't pay him any mind, eye narrowed and directed towards the door, and his hands are gentle but firm when he removes Dick from his lap, moving him to lie back down in the nest, evading the way Dick reaches for him.

"Stay here," Slade commands, as if Dick would try to go anywhere else, and then he's gone.

Dick buries his face in the pillow that has been mainly Slade's, allowing his alpha's scent to soothe him. The alarm is frustrating, working hard to disrupt Dick's peace, but he does his best to tune it out, to slip back into the fuzzy mindset where everything is just _nice._

He hears the door open again, and sighs softly, happy that his alpha has returned so quickly.

But instead of Slade's scent, instead of the familiar weight joining him on his bed, there's a _different_ alpha smell. There's a sharp intake of breath, there's a, "Oh, Richard."

Dick blinks his eyes open, peeking blearily up at the alpha who's approaching his nest. There's something familiar about the scent, something about it that doesn't have him getting defensive about a _stranger_ entering his territory. The alpha crouches beside the bed, faced lined with sadness, and Dick works hard to focus, trying to recognize how he knows this alpha.

It's not _his_ alpha, though. He wants _his_ alpha.

"Richard, I am so sorry we're late," the alpha says. He reaches out cautiously and places his hand over Dick's, and for some reason it's that simple touch that has him understanding.

"Damian," Dick says hoarsely.

It's his brother, his eldest brother, who was supposed to—supposed to...be far away from here, isn't he? He's supposed to be—free. How is he...?

"It's me," Damian confirms, softly stroking his knuckles with his thumb. He's in his suit, but has pulled off the mask to look Dick in the eye. "It's me, little one. I'm so sorry it took me so long to find you. It's time to go now."

Dick's brow furrows. "I can't go," he says. "I need Alpha."

Damian's expression spasms, scent sparking with anger momentarily before he takes a deep breath and gets control of himself.

"That man will never touch you again," he says. "You're safe now, Richard. I know you don't feel like it yet, but I promise, getting you away from him is a good thing."

Dick whines, shaking his head. A _good_ thing? Damian talking about taking him away from his alpha isn't a _good_ thing, it's the worst thing Dick can imagine. He doesn't want to go, he wants to stay in his nest like Slade told him to and wait for the man to return.

Damian purses his lips. "I'm sorry about this, little one. You'll thank me later."

Then he's moving forward, and there's a pinch on Dick's neck, and everything is going floaty and fuzzy, in a different way than the last six days.

He feels something wrap around him, and then he's being lifted in a pair of strong arms, his head tucked into the curve of his brother's neck, the familiar scent encouraging him to sink further into the fuzziness. Damian is family, _pack,_ safety. 

"You got him— _shit."_

Dick whimpers at the loud voice, curling up more tightly against Damian's chest. There are multiple people around them now, and he knows that he knows their scents, but none of them make sense right now. There are too many people, too many _alphas._ Dick feels vulnerable, on edge. He's still in heat, he's only supposed to have _his_ alpha—

"Alpha," Dick whines, tugging at the material of Damian's suit to get his attention. "Please, Dami, I want— _please,_ where is Slade? I want Alpha—"

Someone growls, a furious noise that has Dick cringing, and Damian snaps at whoever it is to knock it off.

"It's alright, little one," Damian says to him, far more gently than the way he spoke to whoever it is. They're walking again, moving quickly. "You're going to be alright."

Damian's never lied to him before, and Dick doesn't think he'd start now. Everything is going to be okay, then. Which means he should see Slade again soon, right? Everything is going to be okay, Damian promised.

The air suddenly becomes crisp and cold, and Dick breathes in the smell of the outdoors for the first time in a while. There's a loud _thump, thump, thump_ nearby that they keep walking closer to, and there are multiple people talking—

It's all too much. Dick allows the fuzziness to take him again, curling more tightly against Damian's chest as they settle on something and begin to lift off, the scents of _pack_ surrounding him as he drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is gonna be more to this! Don't know when though, lol


End file.
